Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(21)

Phil to the rescue! His hands reached into my armpits, currently drenched with sweat, and, with effort, hoisted me upright. I teetered, clutching his shoulders, until I was sufficiently recovered. Then I gave Phil a smile and grateful nod. Not only was he a savior, but he refrained from wiping his hands on his jeans and making a yeuuck sound. Gentleman.

“Jessica, you alright?” Phil asked worriedly.

“What the....what is goin’ on Jessica? I am a married man!” JP said, half humorously, but half irritated.

I didn't have time to apologize. My head swiveled back to where that cowboy had disappeared. I needed to get there. To that place. I needed to follow that ass beyond the trailer, with my tongue hanging down my face if need be.

"Jessica?" Candace asked worriedly.

I spared her a glance. Then realized I was the subject of scrutiny.

One last check to make sure he was really gone, and not just hiding like a Jack-in-the-Box, I turned to my group with an apologetic smile. “S-sorry everyone. Sorry JP. Thanks Phil. I am stupidly clumsy. Sorry about that. I thought I saw someone I knew and stopped paying attention to what I was doing.”

“Jesus, Jessica. I thought they were going to toss you into the bull pen or something.” Candace sighed in relief.

“Candace. Lord’s name...!” JP said with too much hostility.

“Shut up JP,” she answered, using his new nickname.

“Who did you think you knew? I thought you were new here?” Phil asked as he looked around.

“This guy I half-met at the store the other night. I forgot my money and he paid for my groceries. I never really got to say thank you. He was over there by those big bulls.”

Everyone followed my pointed finger.

Phil groaned, his head tilted back to look at the sky with a smirk on his face.

“You mean Davies?” JP asked. “The guy that owns those five bulls?” He mimicked my point to clarify.

“I don’t know if he owns those bulls. But Mr. Davies, yeah. I don’t know the first name. Anyway, doesn't matter.” I was strangely desperate to change the subject.

So was Phil. “Jessica, have you ever seen rodeo bulls up close?”

He leaned toward me, his arm still half around my waist from the stumbling debacle. His eyes were clearer now than before. I saw little flecks of gold hidden in the depths of brown.

“Would you guys quit swarming her like a pack of hyenas?" Candace said with sauce as she stepped in, grabbing my arm and tugging. "Jesus, leave her alone, will you?!”

“Candace, lord’s name in vein...” JP muttered, slightly bowed, his hands in his pockets.

She rolled her eyes again and led me from the bull area as she said, “New blood, you know? They don’t need courage because you’re one of the group. They have all the time in the world to act like savages. You just have to get tough and tell them to buzz off!”

I smiled. “Got it. I am just really out of my element here.”

“Hey, where are you two goin’? The broncs are startin’ soon,” Dave yelled.

Candace waved her hand and kept walking. Still arm-in-arm, I followed without complaint. We struggled through the throng of people stuffing their faces with all manner of fried things before my curiosity got the better of me.

“Candace, who is Davies?”

“Willie Davies?”

I shrugged.

“That guy that you thought you saw by the bull paddock?”

“Yeah, that guy.”

“That was probably Willie, yeah. He doesn’t ride bulls or anything. Actually, that’s not true. He rides bulls for fun. I don’t think professional bulls like you see here, but easier, less dangerous bulls. His dad wants him to take over the company eventually because the older brother went off and became a lawyer. The older one is really cute! Davies...everyone just calls him Davies... Well, Davies is cute, too, but untouchable, you know?"

Seeing that I didn't, she explained. "Just 'cause he's got so much going for him. The older brother...Thomas is his name...is a lawyer. That’s about it. I mean, that is a big deal. I’m not saying it isn’t or anything, but it’s just that one thing, and Davies has a bunch more. He has the bulls. He breeds them. He rotates them so they keep with the animal rights stuff and all that. Well, the animal rights people hate rodeos. But the best treated and kept bulls are kept by Davies. And usually the best stock. That is his own thing. His dad had no part in that.”

Candace was in her element—talking without interruption. She rattled on as she escorted me where ever we were headed, and I let her, rapt in attention.

“Then you got taking over the business,” she continued, “I‘ve heard that he doesn’t want to, but will. I don’t know. Then he has properties, and a ranch, and lots of livestock, and the whole thing. His dad’s thing is only one part. He’ll probably be wealthy off that and all, but then he’s got a ton of his own stuff that also makes money. Plus he looks good, and I hear he is real nice. Untouchable, you know?”

Through the long-winded explanation of his person, my heart sank lower and lower. It must be the same guy, I just didn’t know he was on such a high pedestal. The abnormally hot guys that turn your insides to gravy are rare enough. The ones that do that, which are also gentlemen, are about three percent of the population. Add into that the guys who are also successful? My chances equaled non-existent.